


But Together, We'll Finish

by carmillahey



Category: Carmilla (Web Series)
Genre: Alternate Universe, F/F, One Shot, from 0 to -100 to 100 real quicK
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-17
Updated: 2015-11-17
Packaged: 2018-05-02 02:09:40
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,993
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5229842
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/carmillahey/pseuds/carmillahey
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>I saw you trying to hit the “door close” button in the elevator but I made it in and then I pushed every single button to make you late for work, but now we’re stuck in this fucking elevator as it stops at every single floor and I don’t know what to say other than “you started it” AU</p>
<p>from this post on tumblr http://viria.tumblr.com/post/117777806633/aus-for-when-your-otp-are-both-assholes</p>
            </blockquote>





	But Together, We'll Finish

**Author's Note:**

> I'm not sure if this has been written with hollstein before. I saw the prompt and immediately knew it was something i needed to read or write, either one. (obviously ended up being the latter). so yeah I hope you enjoy my take on what would happen

 

It would be the biggest understatement of the century to say the morning started out a bit rough. Your alarm somehow managed to wake you up an extra 30 minutes late, causing you to fall behind in your morning routine. Usually, you are able to shower, dress, and eat a nutritious meal cooked to perfection all in a comfortable time slot but not today. You skipped the shower (to your dismay) opting for a quick sniff of your armpits before slathering on a pound of antiperspirant and barely scrounging some clean clothes from the piles in the corner of your room.

Then, as you were emerging from your bedroom, you tripped directly over your sleeping dog Hermione. She had been curled up outside the door and upon being rudely awoken, began wiggling feverishly, expecting her meal and daily walk. It took her several minutes to calm down after feeding time, but she wouldn’t cease bugging you like the silly little furball that she is. It only made you feel agitated, as well as guilty, since walking her is a part of the schedule you’ve set for each other. You slipped her an extra treat as consolation for the lack of exercise.

But the situation kept getting worse from there. With your dog out of the way, you were finally able to make breakfast. Or so you thought. Apparently, you’d forgotten to do grocery shopping in the last several days, leaving nothing in your fridge but a moldy piece of fruit, some beer, and several condiments. Following this discovery, the coffee machine wouldn’t allow you to brew any sort of caffeinated drink, which only elevated your feelings of absolute frustration. After repeatedly banging on the contraption for an embarrassing amount of time, you rush out of the door barely remembering to grab your briefcase.

-

As if the universe wanted you to suffer even more, none of the taxi cabs would pull over for you, even when you were practically pitching over into the road in order for them to stop. You’ve never been a fan of cab services, too expensive and not enough fresh air for you. However, riding your bike wouldn’t bring you to work fast enough.

A kind, old man who smells of mint was gracious enough to pull over for you and was quite sensitive to your situation. He assured you he would take the quickest route possible, regardless of the pay cut he’d receive. You tipped him gloriously in thanks, you’ve earn enough money anyways.

-

You’re stumbling over your own two feet by the time you reach the double front doors of the office building, almost 15 minutes late. All you need to do is catch the elevator and you’re home free. Perhaps the editor in chief will not kick your ass. You’re a hard worker, never been late in your time working for the company, and you’ve shown nothing but loyalty. Rounding the corner, you notice the elevator is already open, occupied with a lone woman dress in a blazer and pencil skirt.

You make eye contact with the stranger and yell for her to hold the door.

She smirks, a devilish glint in her eye, and presses the "close door" button. More than once.

Quite honestly, you’re fit as fuck. Sprinting a few meters across a deserted main floor is a piece of cake.

You take off at full intensity, determined and fueled by the rudeness of the woman. And despite her efforts, you slip through the closing metal doors at the last safe second possible.

-

For a moment, you lean over with your hands on your knees, trying to control your breathing. You straighten up, smooth over your frizzed hair, and stare at the side of the woman’s head. You’d been so worried about catching the elevator that you hadn’t let yourself get upset. Oh, but now, you’re fuming.

The stranger doesn’t meet your eye, but her features look slightly shocked. Not remorseful though. Not in the least bit.

You know what the right thing to do is; let it go. You’re already late and very angry so there is no use in confronting her. However, you’re admittedly known for your childish nature outside of the work place and it really has been a shit day so far. The earlier events had totally skewed your emotions and in this moment, you’re done.

An evil feeling burns bright in your chest, reflecting in your eyes.

You don’t confront her.

No, you’re out for revenge.

The day has been too cruel, unnecessarily unfair and you’re not up for this bullshit. You ponder for several moments your options; there aren’t many in the confined space of the elevator. You could talk her ears off, singing the verse to your favorite pop song at an inappropriate volume, you could fake passing gas or even force yourself to genuinely fart.

But then it hits you, the ultimate and easiest option. You’re already late, definitely in trouble with the boss but it doesn’t really matter anymore.

You reach over, directly in front of her and press every single button you can manage. You splay your hands dramatically all over, running fingers and palms over the whole space of the control panel. There are at least 40 floors to this building and she was going to one of the top ones. Which means, she's in for a long ride.

You fall back into your previous standing position, gazing straight ahead as if you didn’t even move an inch. You begin to twitch, desperately choking back a laugh and victory dance. That’ll teach her not to be so inconsiderate of other people transport needs.

The silence stretches on until the woman scoffs very loudly beside you, clearly exasperated.

“You really had to go there, didn’t you sweetheart?” Out of the corner of your eye, you see the scowl gracing her unpleasantly attractive face and murderous eyes staring daggers back at you.

You don’t say anything, ignoring her as best you can. You focus on the feeling the elevator halting and lurching upward every few seconds, along with the occasional opening of the doors. She chuckles mirthlessly at you, still sizing you up.

“The silent treatment, how mature.” She’s verbally poking you with a stick, trying to provoke and get a rise out of you. Still, you remain unwaveringly quiet. She isn’t done yet though.

“First, you pull this ridiculous little stunt and you don’t even have the audacity to apologize.” Her tactics are working and you hate it. The power to keep your body and face schooled into something adjacent to aloof is rapidly decreasing. There is nothing but bitterness running through your veins at the moment. Why did she have to pick on you?

Wait. She just insinuated, no, blatantly said you need to apologize. Like a volcano just waiting to explode, the pressure finally becomes too much and you crack.

“You started it!” You argue back venomously, voice rising and finger pointed in blame. She appears pleased by your outburst. Not wanting to give her the satisfaction any longer, you turn away again and cross your arms, mumbling under your breathe a number of curse words that shouldn’t be uttered anywhere near this establishment.

“And how exactly did I start this?” She retorts with a gesture, arrogance almost tangible, spreading out with her words. She’s acting like this isn’t even remotely her fault.

“You pressed the button to close the elevator doors when I was clearly in a hurry!” She’s got you fired up and you cannot back down now.

“I don’t recall doing such a thing.” She bulks herself up even more, nose high in the air.

“Oh my god, who’s the immature one now. You can’t even take responsibility for your own actions.” You laugh, without any humor present. The filter in your mouth must be broken because you don’t have time to process before the words flow from your mouth. “Just admit you’re an asshole and we can move on.”

The woman had been successful in keeping her composure too, until this point. It’s evident that you’d pushed one too many buttons not just on the elevator panel. She snarls at you, like an animal standing its ground, and stalks right up into your space. Your back is pressed against the wall and she’s so close you can smell the perfume rolling from her body. It’s surprisingly nice smelling.

Her eyes are piercing and you find yourself shriveled under her presence. Remorse comes creeping in, unwanted. You shouldn’t have taken out your frustration on her, but it’s too late to take it back.

“I can’t help if I was in a rush too!” She says shortly, not bothering to hide the anger. Neither of you flinch or step down, chest heaving and too close considering you two don’t know one another. The air around you stills, tension floating thickly in solid waves. All that can be heard is the groaning of the movement caused by the lift and the dings signifying each floor. Luckily, the doors hadn’t opened for a few floors and no one attempted to get in. After a few moment, the woman snaps out of her state. Realizing what she has done, she promptly exhales and steps far into the other corner.

“I’m so sorry.” She exhales, releasing her exhaustion. “It’s been a stressful morning and I shouldn’t have taken or blamed it on you.” You notice her shoulders are hunched, her body language more relaxed and open. She’s telling the truth.

“No, I’m sorry. I’ve been having a stressful morning too. It wasn’t fair of me either.” You say, flushing at the confession.

“Seems like we’re perfect for blowing off a little steam together, cutie.” The smirk from earlier is back and bigger than you’ve ever seen.

Was that? flirting? oh dear.

“Uh yeah, I guess so.” You choke out, not quite sure how to respond to the innuendo. She doesn’t seem offended though, as she visibly softens with a soft chuckle.

Reality catches up to you and you groan loudly.

“The boss is seriously gonna kick my ass for being this late. Why did I think it was a good idea to press all the buttons?”

“Well, it kinda was my fault.” She shrugs, an adorably guilty smile on her face.

“Maybe a little.” You quip, nudging her shoulder in a teasing manner. You actually kind of enjoyed bantering with her non-maliciously.

“I’m Laura.”

“Carmilla.”

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Carm.” The nickname forced its way out without warning, you didn’t have a choice.

“The pleasure is all mine.” You’re a little shocked how the woman could go from rude and obnoxious to kind of charming. It sets off a dangerous bell inside your head but you’re too caught up in the angle of her jawline and the curls of her soft brunette hair.

“What department do you work for?” Carmilla inquires, pulling you from your small reverie.

“Magazine. I’m one of the columnists.” You boast. It’s always been something you were proud of. You had wanted to do something with writing for as long as you could remember. All the hard work during high school and college certainly paid off when you finally scored this job.

“What about y-” Just then, the elevator doors open with a hiss.

-

“Looks like this is my stop.” You say, jerking your thumb into the open space of the office floor. You’re oddly disappointed. You had wanted to get to know the stranger, Carmilla, more. Being trapped in the small space hadn’t provided a sufficient amount of time. Too embarrassed and upset to say anything else, you exit though the threshold and into the open, not glancing back.

“Ms. Karnstein.” Someone calls out. You whip your head frantically, looking for the intimidating CEO of the whole company, Lilith Karnstein.

“What is it, I haven’t got much time.” Your throat instantly dries as you peak over towards Carmilla. She’s stepping out onto the floor as well which means.. you’re screwed.

Carmilla Karnstein is related to the CEO. She holds a high position, next to her mother. You’d been stuck in an elevator, yelling at your boss's boss’s boss. How fantastic.

The conversation between the employee and Carmilla is merely distorted noise as you get lost in you own head. You’d been so completely stupid let yourself get angry like that. She could fire you, report you to Lilith and have you fired personally by her. Hell, she could have you blacklisted, to ensure you never get hire ever again. They hold a very influential spot in in the publication world. You are definitely screwed.

“Laura, are you okay?”

Shit.

“Yeah, totally fine.” You say, voice harsh with panic.

“You look like you’re about to pass out.” Oh okay well that’s definitely probably going to happen.  
You missed the concerned look on her face, the furrow of her eyebrows as she tried to figure out what was happening inside your head; you’re too worried about the status of your employment.

“Somebody get me some water, now.” Carmilla commands, voicing booming through the office. Everyone quiets before a lone employee towards the back offers to complete the task and scrambles as fast as they can to retrieve water. Meanwhile, she leads you to one of the plush lounging couches towards the edge of the room. The furniture in this place is top notch, the comfiest you’ve ever felt. It’s your favorite break time spot, simply because it allows you to eat your cookies and relax fully, courtesy of it’s fluffy cushions and silk-like exterior. You both sit down on it and she immediately leans you back. She’s got a hand on your thigh and her arm resting behind your head. You’re be freaking out for an entirely different reason right now if it wasn’t for the light feeling in your head.

An intern comes rushing over shortly, holding the requested water. She sends them away with a flick of the hand and pries open the bottle for you.

“Can you drink on your own?” She whispers, her tone completely opposite from before. You nod and lift your weak arm to grab it from her. Your fingers brush as she tries to keep your hand steady.

You drink slowly and she rubs the pad of her thumb against the skin of your leg. The contact grounds you, bring you back.

“What happened back there?”

“Do you want the truth?”

“Of course, or else I wouldn’t have asked.” She’s incredibly gentle with you and it urges you to finally speak.

“I kinda freaked out when I realized you are related to the Chief.” She stiffens beside you, but relaxes immediately after. “I started to panic because we argued and I did some things that were extremely childish and-”

“Woah, slow down cupcake. Don’t want you passing out for real.” She chuckles sweetly, as if she finds you endearing.

“I’m not going to fire you, or get you fired, if that’s what you’re borderline blacking out about.”

The large breath you release must be an indicator that she hit the nail on the head, the source of your distress.

“I understand why you’d freak out but, don’t be ridiculous. I’d never do something like that to you.” She sounds so honest that warmth floods through your chest. Not that it wasn’t already there before. Once you and her stopped fighting, the heat had settled in your chest and refused to leave. Her taking care of you so devotedly only served to intensify it.

“Even though I’m now…. 45 minutes late to work?” You say after checking your watch.

“Yes, besides, this all ties back to me. I’m the one who provoked you.” You smile at that, not even bothering to argue. Everything leading up to this point has drained you.

There’s a brief pause in the conversation as you reflect on all that has happened today. It’s crazy how the day has progress, how your relationship with Carmilla has progressed though you’ve barely known her for 30 minutes.

“Are you gonna be alright now? Because you’ve taken up far too much of my time today.” She tries to remains serious, but the teasing lilt in her voice is obvious.

“I think so.”

“I’d stay with you but I’ve got a meeting to attend.”

“Right, of course.” You comply, shifting away from the almost embrace Carmilla had you wrapped in. Carmilla stretches as she stands, emitting a loud groan, far from professional. From what you can assume, the brunette has two strict sides to herself. One of business and one of causal. She’s been nothing but laid back since the scuffle.

-

You remain seated while she gathers her things from when she dropped them to help you. You think she’s just about to leave, without any goodbye or warning when she comes back to sit next to you. She appears hesitant and.. nervous?

“I was wondering if you’d like to get some dinner after work. Yknow, so I could make up for being an ass earlier and almost indirectly knocking you unconscious.” A gasp escapes past your lips in surprise. You weren’t expecting her to be straightforward but then again, you don’t know her very well at all.

“I’d love to, Ms. Karnstein.”

“Carmilla.”

“Carmilla.” You repeat in correction. She smiles fondly at your response, before murmuring that she’ll find you later and swiftly heads back towards the elevator.

You sit on the couch for a moment longer in complete awe. An extremely attractive woman, basically head of the company you work at, just asked you on a dinner date.

Somehow, you’d managed to go from having the worst day ever, furious and late, to something as hopeful and wonderful as this. You thank several things as you rise on shaky legs to start working at your desk; The inventor of the elevator, your childish nature, and the inevitably charming asshole Carmilla can be.

 


End file.
